


His Zombie Boy

by yourrhinestoneeyes



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Depression, Drama, Drug Abuse, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Romance, Self Harm, Soul Selling, general sad things yknow, major character death but only temporary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-10 05:49:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3279086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourrhinestoneeyes/pseuds/yourrhinestoneeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is fragile and temporary, Murdoc didn't realize that until he lost somebody he never thought he would actually care about losing. He also refuses to admit just how temporary life can be when he's got a list of demons in his contacts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Life is Temporary

**Author's Note:**

> Okay I posted this story in full on another fanfiction site quite awhile ago, while rereading what I had originally I wasn't too fond of my old writing style and saw where I could have gone somewhere bigger with this story so I took it down and started fresh. Since that site isn't too populated and since Gorillaz is coming back with a phase four I thought maybe my new ongoing rendition of this fic would be welcomed here. I will probably write more Gorillaz fics.

Life is fragile; any single little thing can change the course of a person's life, of their destiny. Every breath you take, every beat of your heart takes a second off of your life and brings you closer to your ending. People spend their lives thinking that they have forever until they reach the end of their story though, nobody realizes until a death occurs or until their later years that life is fleeting and every single second matters more than you could ever know. Maybe it doesn't matter at all. So many changes, so many events occur in a human's life; it seems miniscule when it's happening. Things are taken for granted, the words one speaks or the words one hears; nothing ever seems to mean that much.

Murdoc never thought any of it meant much at all; he took life for granted. He barely considered himself much of a human; he looked at humanity as something weak, something pitiful and wasteful. He had lived his life like he had been trying to end it just as quickly as it had started.

His mismatched eyes scanned over the stone before him, a second time just to be sure nothing had changed. His calloused fingers with their long painted nails caressed the smooth marble, it was still there.

He had taken friends for granted, he barely had ever liked calling those people in Kong Studios his friends. He hadn't wanted to admit that he cared about them and he'd be damned if he was going to tell them that he gave a single shit about them.

"I'll tell you though, I do care about you you know." He spoke to the marble stone, his hand still rested atop of it.

The grass was growing from the dirt, he made a grunting sound when he realized this was the only spot in the whole landfill where grass was willing to grow.

He had taken too much for granted; he knew he was a filthy rotten bastard. He shouldn't had been so mean to the kid.

Something in his chest still ached, it hadn't stopped aching for nearly two months now; he had consumed alcohol, snorted cocaine, and smoked more crystal meth than the human body should be able to handle but nothing had made that aching in his chest go away. Russel had scolded him a time or two; telling him he'd end up dead if he kept doing so many drugs. He had laughed in response then went back to his lines of cocaine. He didn't really care about living; his band was over, fame was disappearing rather quickly, and six feet under his feet lay the only person in the whole stinking world who ever saw some sort of light at the end of the seemingly endless void called Murdoc. He had never figured it out, even now standing out in the freezing English weather he couldn't figure it out.

"What the fuck did you even see in me, fucking moron. I got nothing to offer. I miss you though, I really do. You're such a fucking idiot."

His eyes burned with something wet, they hurt from nights of crying and nights of little to no sleep. Sleep became a forced habit that he hardly enjoyed; he never really fell asleep, more so passed out. One time he had over dosed, nobody had been shocked.

He rubbed roughly at his wet eyes with the back of his right hand.

"I fucking hate you, making me fucking cry. I feel fucking sick because of you, why did you have to go and be so bloody stupid for. Eh?"

He gave a quick glance around at his surroundings to ensure he was completely alone. Once he as assured he was alone he sat down on the ground, his legs folded; he sat facing the marble stone. He reached out touching it again, he didn't feel right unless he was touching it. He traced the engravings, touched every letter and every number, saying them out loud inside his mind then forcing the words past his chapped thin lips.

"Stuart '2D' Pot, beloved son, singer, and friend..."

"Stupid bastard"

He let his hand drop, he hung his head as the moisture in his eyes made his vision far too blurry. He buried his face in his hands as he started to cry openly; nobody would see him crying, if they did they wouldn't dare say a thing.


	2. The Pain of Death and Love

After their latest gig the band found themselves at a pub only half an hour away from the venue that they had been playing. Upon news of hearing that the four members of Gorillaz were to be there a crowd had appeared quite quickly. Noodle and Russel for the most part strayed away, they found a booth far in the back doing their best to stay away from the chaos of overly excited female fans and often loud and obnoxious male fans. Noodle seemed to enjoy it anytime somebody would want to spark a conversation with her about music or her views on really anything; mostly it was younger fans and girls who didn't notice Murdoc's presence. The band's drummer busied himself with ordering everything off of the pub's menu and seeing if he could eat it all, from what Murdoc could tell he had managed to consume well over half of what he had ordered. Watching him eat made the bassist nauseous. He took another shot, slammed the glass down on the bar only to have it filled again. It might be the four shots of whiskey that were causing the nauseous sensation though.

Women flocked around him, he kept his left arm wrapped around one's waist; her head rest on his shoulder. Every few seconds she would whisper in his ear or nibble at his ear lobe; he mostly kept his eyes on her breasts which seemed to be ready to pop out of the low cut and tight fitted tank top she was wearing. Two more shots in and he found himself sitting on a bar stool with said brunette on his lap, she had an arm wrapped around his shoulders and her mouth on his. She moaned, whimpered, and squirmed in his lap as he kissed her and touched her. She moaned delighted when his long tongue entered her mouth, she gave a small thrust of her full hips when his hand traveled up her inner thighs making its way up underneath her black mini skirt. With the pleased sounds falling from her pink painted lips and the way she was guiding his hand towards important parts of her body he knew he was close to getting a good shag in a bathroom stall.

"Murdoc I need to talk to you about something." A thick cockney accent that ended with a nervous stutter announced close by.

The bassist broke away from his canceled shag. The girl pouted then glared, she removed herself from the gothic man's lap and wandered away. Murdoc turned his full attention on the tall lanky blue haired man who stood there shaking and nervously fumbling with his fingers.

"What the fucking hell do you want, do you realize how close I was to getting with that bird? Fucking moron, I swear to Satan if this isn't important I'm putting your head through a fucking wall." He spat angrily at the younger man.

"I'm sorry, really just...I-I really need to talk to you, maybe um...Maybe...If you were busy though we can talk later. It's one of those things, you seem pi-"

Murdoc smacked the singer upside the back of his head, 2D flinched then rubbed where the bass player had hit him.

"Stop rambling, it makes you seem more brain dead than usual. We can talk outside, I swear if this is something idiotic I will kill you."

"Ri-right, okay; I swear it is."

Murdoc got down off of the bar stool and followed his singer through the throng of people that filled the building. If it wasn't for 2D's pretty looks and his good voice he wasn't sure he'd want a single thing to do with him. Possibly. He did find him entertaining, not only when he was getting hurt. The kid did have his moments of being genuinely funny and on rare occasion he could even sound quite smart. Not like Murdoc really wanted to compliment him all that much; people often questioned him when it came to just how open he was about saying how gorgeous the singer was. He never saw the big deal, pretty was pretty; didn't matter if it was a bloke. Even if it was one that drove him absolutely mad most of the time.

The two musicians exited out the back of the pub ending up out in the alleyway, a light hanging over the door was the only thing providing light of any kind. The cold weather sent shivers through the dark haired man, he noticed his friend's lack of jacket and the short sleeves he chose to wear and wondered how in the Hell he wasn't freezing his ass off right now. He was probably just too stupid to notice that he was freezing to death.

When the door clicked shut 2D was back to being fidgety and to looking around the alley, but never at Murdoc. He stared off in the distance at a couple of men smoking cigarettes, the two talked amongst themselves then laughed about something.

"Alright you got me outside, I'm going to freeze my balls off; now what the hell do you want?" Murdoc asked impatiently.

The younger musician jumped startled at the sound of the growl of the older man's voice, Murdoc smirked at his reaction which seemed to make 2D more uncomfortable and nervous than he had already been.

"Y-yeah right um...I. It's about...It's about you or me...Shit I mean, us. Yeah us. I've been thinking"

"That's a laugh"

"Shut up, I'm trying to say something" 2D retorted glaring down at the other man.

Murdoc refrained from yelling at him, he got some enjoyment out of it when the blue haired singer could stand up to him from time to time, something about it made him feel just a tiny bit of respect towards him. He wouldn't say that though, he'd rather hang from the gallows than admit he had any sort of respect for his singer.

"Right, right get the fuck on with it dullard."

"I...It's...We've known each other for awhile, right? Like I have technically known you since I was about like nineteen and...Just we've...We've been through a lot. You're sort of...I...I don't think you hate me all that much, even though you say you do...I just...I"

"Fucking Hell you idiot just get on with it so I can go back inside, maybe find that gi-"

2D grabbed the front of his shirt, he pulled the shorter man roughly to him pressing his lips firmly against his. He shoved Murdoc back against the metal door with a loud thud, he kissed him hard for a second or two until moving onto something more gentle. The bassist felt his body tense, he felt shocked by what had happened; it took only six seconds for his mind to catch up to what was going on. It took one second of kissing back for him to realize how wrong this was to do and how it went against everything he had taught himself in life.

He grabbed 2D's wrists hard enough to make the younger man groan and release his grip. Murdoc shoved him hard, 2D stumbled and tripped over his own shoe laces falling hard onto his ass. When Murdoc stood towering over him the younger knew enough to scramble to his feet.

"I-I'm sorry"

Murdoc punched him hard in the stomach making him double over.

"You disgusting little fucker! Do you really think I'd lower my standards enough to let a filthy little git like you touch me? Don't ever do that again and you were wrong, I hate your bloody guts. You disgusting, pathetic piece of shit."

He shoved him again, this time his back hit against the brick wall. 2D stood with his shoulders slumped, one hand placed on his aching abdomen and black abyss like eyes staring up at him like a frightened dog that had just been beaten by its owner. For the smallest of seconds he actually felt a pang of guilt, didn't he used to look up at his dad like that when he was a boy after a round of abuse?

He shook his head to make the memory and the guilt go away, he'd drink more and find that broad in the mini skirt to make the feelings go away. He could still taste cherry chapstick from where the singer had kissed him.

"Get the hell outta here, you fucking twat."

2D didn't respond, didn't yell or try to ask why he was mad. He simply hung his head and walked away disappearing somewhere down the alleyway.

He gave it a minute just to be sure the singer wouldn't come back and try that again or try to speak to him about what had happened. When he was for sure he wouldn't be seeing him again for awhile or at least until they were back at the hotel he leaned back against the wall he had thrown 2D against. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it up and took a drag from it. He held the smoke in until it burned before releasing it into the clear night sky. He watched it swirl and dance then evaporate. He could still feel where the singer had kissed him, he tried to think if there were any signs something like that would happen. He thought about how much the younger man adored him, how he insisted on being around him as much as possible, and how he rarely seemed bothered by the cruel words or the way Murdoc beat on him. He could barely think of anything; there were times 2D would tell him he found him beautiful, times he'd stare at the bassist for too long, but Murdoc never figured that meant anything like that. His biggest problem was he didn't know how to get it off of his own mind, he didn't mind sharing a moment of intimacy with a bloke or two, but with 2D; that seemed off limits. He wasn't exactly into the habit of sleeping around with band mates, not after the incident with Paula and even then he hadn't wanted that. He'd done it to show his friend how terrible of a woman she was, he hadn't thought it through all too well.

The same guy who wouldn't speak to him for weeks and had nearly quit the band over that was the same one who had just stuttered through some weird crush admission and kissed him. It didn't make much sense to him; it aggravated him really. How the fuck could he feel that way about somebody who for the most part disliked him?

There was definitely something off about the younger musician if he would dare do a thing like that with somebody who treated him so badly. He could do way better.

Not like that was what this was about, he told himself that even if it was complete bull shit.

"Hey queer bait where the fuck is your boyfriend at?"

A man just a bit taller than himself approached him; the man had pale skin, a bruise beneath his right eye, his brown hair had far too much gel in it, and his clothes hung loose on his body.

"Sorry mate I don't got a boyfriend, not my style." He responded coolly, he took another drag waiting for the idiot to go away.

The brown haired man was annoyed at being ignored like that, he grabbed the cigarette from the older man and dropped it to the ground stubbing it out with the toe of his white tennis shoe.

"I don't like being ignored, I also don't like seeing faggots hanging around here."

He stepped closer to the bassist trying to come across as intimidating. Murdoc eyed him, he just seemed like another soccer hooligan looking for a fight, and pretending he owned everything that he pissed or shit on.

"Listen when I'm talking"

Murdoc punched him hard in the jaw knocking him back a few steps.

"I heard you, now fuck off you stupid ponce."

He reached back into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes again, he didn't notice the younger man taking a swing of his own; he got caught off guard by the hit to the side of his face that knocked him over. He fell onto the wet ground with a heavy thud, when he started to pull himself up he received a hard kick to his side knocking him back down.

"Stupid fucking bastard, how dare you hit me. I'll fucking tear you to shreds you fucking pig."

Murdoc grabbed hold of his ankle when he went for another kick, he pulled hard knocking him off balance and making him fall to the ground. He got on top of the brown haired man straddling his lower stomach. He held onto his throat as he started punching him in the face.

"How dare I? Listen here you scrawny little fuck-"

His assault was cut short when somebody grabbed him by the back of his shirt hauling him up off of the ground and throwing him back against the wall. Another much more muscle bound man stared him down at him this time, this one with acne scarred skin and greasy black hair; he snarled exposing crooked and crowded teeth. Murdoc looked over his shoulder to see the brown haired man climb unsteadily to his feet, he wiped his face with the back of his hand smearing blood from his nose across his left cheek. Something cool and sharp against his neck brought Murdoc's attention back to the large thug who had him against the wall. A knife was digging into his neck.

He smirked at the man which seemed to make the knife dig a little deeper.

"Well go on with it, you over sized fairy."

"What the hell is going on here?"

"Shit, 2D fuck off this doesn't concern you, you idiot."

The singer stood there looking between the man holding Murdoc against the wall then towards the smaller man who was still attempting to make his nose stop bleeding by rubbing his hands against it repeatedly.

"Let go of him you fucking ape." The lanky musician rushed towards the black haired man, he gave a jump trying to get on top of him.

The man with the knife took his attention off of Murdoc in order to swing at 2D with a large arm knocking the singer a good foot landing him on his ass. The bassist took this as a good opportunity to rush him, he head butted the large man, he heard the crunching of his nose as it broke upon impact. The throbbing in his own head made him feel sick, a hard hit to his chest sent him against the wall and onto the ground. He saw 2D rush at the muscle freak again, this time to his surprise the singer did land a rather hard punch to the bastard's throat knocking him back as he coughed and wheezed. 2D turned to Murdoc offering his hand to him, the bassist took it not even bothering to thank him or even look him in the eye.

The small moment of peace and gratitude was cut short when something struck him over the head knocking him to the ground again, this time causing him to black out. He heard scuffling, skin hitting against skin, loud curses, a scream, and then another thud. He only came to when he heard the heavy metal door slam closed followed by the sound of a woman with a too thick Irish accent begin hollering.

"Oh my god, what happened?"

The bassist groaned, he felt a shudder go through him at the pain coursing through his head. He noted to himself to never head butt somebody again. He felt blood trickling down the back of his neck, he figured he'd been hit with perhaps a glass bottle. No hooligans or thugs were hanging around by the time he got himself to his feet though he had to hold onto the wall for support. Though he did notice the crumpled up body on the ground in a puddle of water, liquor and something more.

"Fuck"

He managed two steps, next to 2D then dropped to his knees. The singer was hunched over half on his side and half on his front. Murdoc carefully rolled him over onto his back so he could see the damage done. He had assumed the woman with her bright red hair and flushed face was over reacting, but that was until he saw the rips in his friend's green shirt and the blood flowing from the gaping hole in his chest.

"Shit"

He lightly smacked the younger man's pale cheek repeatedly, "Hey c'mon, wake up you fucking idiot. Oi call a fucking ambulance, just don't stand there like an idiot." He ordered the woman who nodded dumbly then rushed inside.

He could just hear her yelling to the others in the pub, announcing a fight had gotten out of hand in the alleyway.

Murdoc ignored them; he shook 2D's shoulders as he continued to loudly order for him to wake up.

He placed his index and middle fingers against the side of his neck feeling for a pulse point; there was something there, but it was alarmingly weak. Whatever buzz he'd had that night was far gone now, he felt a cold panic inside of himself. He knew it wouldn't do a damned thing, but he placed his free hand over the gaping wound in his friend's chest. The feeling of blood made him by instinct want to pull away; he never realized just how hot it felt. He didn't like seeing this much coming out of his friend. His stupid friend who got himself stabbed by shoving his nose in a fight that didn't concern him.

"You fucking idiot, why the hell did you go and do that!? You know you can't fight worth shit, you worthless little fuck. Damn it. Just wake up, open your damn eyes. C'mon Stu. Please, c'mon open your eyes for old Muds..."

His chest rose and fell, but it was shallow and happening less now. More people were outside, a crowd gathered around them. Everybody talked and questioned; he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Murdoc what happened man, what the fuck happened to 'D?"

"Fucking fight, got out of hand; some asshole thug stabbed him. Shit. Is there an ambulance coming or what?"

"Yeah, yeah it's on it's way." Russel assured.

Both musicians looked down at the singer who seemed to be getting paler. Murdoc pulled his limp body closer to himself.

"C'mon you dullard, just open your eyes. Don't leave me alone you stupid bastard." he muttered against the crook of his neck.

The sound of sirens approaching gave him some pathetic semblance of hope.

The paramedics and police fought their way through the crowd of on lookers, the paramedics had little problem removing 2D from Murdoc's grip; he felt numb and in complete shock. He only got up from the ground when Russel told him he'd called a cab and they were going to follow the ambulance to the hospital. He sat with the drummer, he stared down at his blood stained shirt and hands. His hands were stained with his best friend's blood; the friend who got into a fight to keep his arrogant ass from getting stabbed, the one who took a knife for him, and the one who had kissed him before all of that. The one who apparently carried some crush on him, the one who cared about him. The same friend he had beat up, had told that he hated him, and was disgusted by him. He'd said he was trash.

When they arrived Russel lead the bassist in, he sent him to the restroom to wash up. Murdoc spent until Russel came in after him just standing looking blankly into the mirror, the sink was stained pink with blood, with 2D's blood. The doctor wanted to see them about his condition, Murdoc knew there was nothing to say. There had been so much blood, a gaping wound and blood gushing out of it.

He sat on the ugly purple vinyl chair that made his ass hurt, he listened dully as the middle aged man with his bald spot and wire framed glasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose talked on and on. He talked about broken ribs, the knife had gone deep; whoever had stabbed him had used a lot of force. The knife had pierced through his heart; he had lost too much blood in the time Murdoc had been passed out, in the time it had taken for that woman to call somebody, and too much time had passed between the pub and the E.R.

He didn't even realize until they were in the room that he had followed Russel and the doctor to the room where 2D's body was. His friend's body lay motionless on the bed, a white band around his thin wrist. Murdoc slowly approached the small hospital bed; they had washed him up, when they figured there was a miniscule chance of helping him. His skin was pale, it had a tinge of gray or maybe blue to it, he wasn't sure. He didn't really want to think on it too much. Murdoc reached out a trembling hand, he brushed back damp blue hair moving it away from 2D's face. His hair was getting long, he'd need to cut it.

He let his fingers trace along his room temperature skin.

Dead, his best friend was dead.

Dead, dead; he kept repeating that word in his mind as he looked down at him. Tears stung his eyes catching him by surprise; crying wasn't his favorite thing and he never did it over people. One tear turned to two and then that turned to soft crying which soon turned to heavy sobs. He dropped to his knees resting his head on the bed as he cried, his body shaking with each heavy sob. He took hold of 2D's hand holding onto it tightly.

"Don't leave me, don't leave me you fucking asshole."

"Muds, come on man I think we should go; Noodle's back at the hotel we need to go talk to her."

"Fucking give me a second."

He pulled himself to his feet but he still held onto the younger man's hand.

"Alright, I'll be waiting out in the hallway. Just a few seconds."

Murdoc waited until he was sure the larger man was out of the room.

"I didn't mean those things I said to you back there. You fucking caught me off guard mate, I'm fucking sorry. Hear that? Just said it, I mean it. Damn it. Don't make me lose my only friend, not sure I can handle this."

He leaned down pressing his lips against the younger man's forehead, he hesitated for a few seconds before he gently kissed his lips. He felt himself trembling when he kissed him, when he thought back to when he hadn't been cold and when he'd initiated the kiss; when that dumb lanky body had pinned him to a metal door. Murdoc straightened up, he couldn't bring himself to look at him anymore. He made himself release his hold on his lifeless hand, he turned and walked away.

It wasn't until after a trip to the police station and after he got back to his hotel room at five in the morning that it hit him. It hit him hard; he sobbed and screamed until his throat was raw and his back and chest ached horribly.


	3. Aftermath

The following days after 2D's death were frustrating and nearly bordered on being pure Hell. Every reporter in the world got wind of what had happened, every jackass with a camera phone had taken photos and videos outside of the pub after everything had happened. Thankfully they had managed to persuade those people to hand over their phones and remove the media from the internet, but people had seen the pictures and the videos. People knew that something was up, but thankfully plenty of people didn't know for sure what had happened. They talked and rumors spread, the police were fine with keeping it out of the media via Murdoc's request. Two days after the three of them had returned back to Kong Murdoc had kept himself locked away in his Winnebago, when he had finally come into the living room where Noodle and Russel sat watching the large TV that hung up on the wall he stood before them looking more unkempt than they were used to, but they were smart enough to not comment on his disheveled appearance. He had ordered them to not say anything to the reporters about it, just tell them 'no comment' or anything else they felt like saying, but to not let them know that their singer was dead. The way his hands shook and the glassy look to his eyes kept them from asking why he wanted to keep this out of the public. With that order he had left, grabbed a bottle of rum from the kitchen then retreated back to the darkness of the car lot. He didn't exactly think over much of anything. He didn't want to think over much of anything was more like it. Deep down he couldn't accept that 2D was dead, something about it rubbed him the wrong way; his twenty something year old friend who had been alive and hanging around him not too many days ago was now in a morgue.

That reminded him about funeral arrangements. He took another swig from the bottle; 2D's family would handle that. Family and friends were all that knew and they knew the rule as well. He wondered if his parents would blame him for this; Hell he blamed himself for this. The more time he got to think about it the more he realized it wouldn't have happened if he wasn't such a self centered bastard. He could have been nicer to him, could have run after him and told him he shouldn't have reacted so badly to being kissed by him. Then again 2D shouldn't have gotten involved in the fight, Murdoc knew he would have gotten beaten up and probably stabbed, but he didn't think those guys would have killed him. He had a feeling they never killed somebody before; they were used to making big talk threats and roughing people up in a way that was beyond brutal, but never kill a person. He figured if the cops didn't find the assholes by the end of the month then they would turn themselves in out of guilt and paranoia of being caught and losing all that they had if they had anything at all. They would cry and say it was an accident, they had been drinking, and they hadn't known.

Murdoc took a drag from his cigarette then a drink from the bottle.

He still hoped to Satan that the fuckers would rot though. Maybe some large man would make them into lovely little prison brides. He smirked at the idea until he remembered why he was having such a fabulous fantasy.

Would it have hurt him that much to return the sentiment?

2D had been attractive, he'd always been so open about how attractive he had found his friend. When he thought about it in the almost too silent atmosphere of his room he realized that had been his only friend. He hated to admit it, but Russel and Noodle cared for him just not in the open naïve way that 2D had cared for him. They cared about him because for Russel he felt like he might as well care about the rotten Goth bastard and Noodle had grown up realizing he was just sad really. Murdoc managed to fuck 2D in twenty different ways and the singer still clung to his side and wanted his company, wanted his advice, and to listen to him play bass. He had cared about him after knowing his worst side. He really could have been a better friend to the singer. He couldn't let go of that; he never thought about future plans. He never thought about "one day that kid is gonna die, be nicer to him".

If anything Murdoc figured himself to be the one who would die long before his friends, he didn't figure somebody in their damn early twenties would die like that. Die at all. He was supposed to have a full long life full of making mistakes and discovering the world, not wanting to waste his time snogging some brooding bass player with bad skin and getting stabbed over him. That wasn't how his life was supposed to go down.

A memory sprung to Murdoc's mind from when he'd been much younger, he figured he'd been about seven years old. His father had had yet another wife, beautiful woman with kind blue eyes and a halo of golden blonde hair. She used to sing softly to him, take him to the park and read his real bed time stories unlike the pornographic ones his father forced him to read. He remembered his father beating her a lot, blaming her for his drinking problem, and when he was through with her he blamed Murdoc for the fact he'd beaten her. One day when she had finally gone away he hadn't known she was gone, he had looked all through the house for her that day. He had wanted his mom back, he had loved her. When his father came home he had told him she had left all because of Murdoc, it was his fault she left their home. His father had told him that everything he loved left, because he was a terrible person not worth loving.

"Guess the old man was right" He mumbled to himself, to his empty room

His lips pressed against the opening of the bottle, the glass warm from his skin; the glass was stiff and the drink stung his cracked dried out lips. This was the only lover he was allowed to kiss.


	4. Accepting Death

Murdoc lay on his bed staring up at the grimy ceiling, Cortez sat on his perch occasionally squawking at his owner. The black haired man groaned and closed his eyes tightly, the sound of his pet's God awful screeching only made the pain in his head increase. He brought the bottle up to his lips draining what little remained at the bottom, once it was as useless as himself he tossed it to the floor. 

He ignored it when he heard somebody pounding against the winnebago door.

“Muds open the god damn door. Dude I'm not gonna fucking tell you again, open up.”

The bassist groaned and muttered under his breath about how the drummer needed to go fuck himself. He rolled over onto his side so that he faced the wall. He continued on ignoring his band mate even when the larger man tore the door open and barged into the bass player's private area.

“God dude it fucking smells worse than usual in here, fucking looks like shit too.”

“Fuck off fat ass, I don't want to see anybody right now.”

“Yeah you been saying that for over a month now.”

Murdoc rolled over onto his back again, he looked up at the drummer who stood by his bed looking around the room with complete disgust.

“Ya would think after that many times you'd take the hint. You know maybe fuck off.”

The younger man sighed and rubbed one large hand over the top of his bald head. His milky white eyes focused on the Satanist again.

“This isn't fucking good for you.”

“I don't really give a toss.”

“That's it I'm sick of this, you're fucking getting up.”

Russel bent down and grabbed hold of the dark haired man. Murdoc hit at him, but he wasn't the strongest of people and he was too hung over to really do much at all. The drummer had little difficulty dragging him off of the bed and onto the floor.

“Fucking let go of me you fat fucking asshole.”

“Nope”

“This isn't funny, fuck off. I told you already I want my damn privacy.”

“I don't care what you want, what you need is a damn shower.”

Murdoc growled and kicked out his feet knocking over boxes and empty beer bottles in the process. Russel managed to drag him into the bathroom, he held onto the back of the older man's dirty black tank top to prevent him from running out of the room as he started the water in the shower. Once it was warm enough he dragged his still dressed band mate into the tub and under the spray of water.

“Don't come out of this bathroom until you stop smelling like a dead hooker, got it?”

“Fuck you” 

Murdoc folded his arms across his chest and glared at the wall in front of him. Russel sighed in defeat, he turned and left deciding he'd just let this go wherever it was supposed to go.

He was happy when he heard the screen door slam shut and knew that he was alone again. Well he wasn't really happy. His clothes were soaked, Cortez was still screeching bloody murder, his head was throbbing, and his brain felt foggy.

“Fucking fat bastard, what does it even matter to him?”

Bad enough they had called an ambulance for him when he had over dosed. He had thrown such a fit when he had woken back up, alive, and with a doctor telling him he was lucky to still be alive. He didn't really want to be alive.

He continued to sit in the tub brooding and staring blankly at the broken up tiled wall across from him. This went on for a minute or three until he stood up and began to peel off the heavy wet clothes that were clinging to his body. He might as well wash off a bit while he was in the shower and soaking wet. Not like he had the energy for it. His limbs felt heavy and even just washing his hair felt like it took for ages and took a lot of his effort and focus. He gave up after he got his hair washed. He turned the water off and stepped out of the tub, he grabbed a pair of black boxer shorts off the bathroom floor pulled them on then went to the small dining area in his home on wheels. He sat down at the table, pulled the worn out magazine with its remnant lines of coke on it towards himself. 

There would probably be a point when he'd wake up to find all drugs and alcohol gone. He was just hoping Russel and Noodle would figure him a lost cause before it came to that though. He needed this, at least the cocaine anyway. It gave him a boost, enough of one to get him to start drinking again.

Cortez flew into the room and sat on the counter watching with disapproving red eyes.

“What? You know I do things like this.” 

The bird turned away and began messing with the feathers on its right wing as if to prove a point that it wasn't all too interested in its owner's drug abuse. 

Murdoc turned his attention back to his drugs snorting them up and taking the burning as a sign of just being alive and actually feeling something. 

This wasn't too different from how things were before 2D died. He used to do drugs before his friend died, Hell they did drugs together. The singer would pop pills like some kind of bored college kid and Murdoc would smoke or snort whatever came at a high price. He used to mock his friend for his choice of drugs, but he did credit the singer for having great standards when it came to weed. 

Once the cocaine was gone he figured he would go looking for the bong stored away in the blue haired man's room. He was pretty sure that he knew where it was at.

If he wasn't still slightly drunk and currently stoned out of his mind he probably wouldn't consider going to 2D's room, but he had drugs and alcohol as a reason and excuse to do this.

 

Just there was something so violating and wrong when he opened the door and stepped into the very empty and abandoned bedroom. It looked as wrecked as his own room, but in a different way; more like the room of a teenage boy than a burnt out middle aged junkie Satanist. 

Keyboards stolen years ago lined the walls of the room, pictures of friends and family were pinned up on the wall behind the head of the twin sized bed, shoes, and pants were scattered across the floor as well as other useless junk that had rare to never been used, never would be used. He felt sad thinking about that. A part of his coked up brain expected 2D to come into the room and ask him what he needed. 

The singer wouldn't be upset about finding Murdoc in his room, he'd just be curious, and probably hopeful that they could hang out for the day. Maybe walk down to the pub not too far from their haunted mansion, grab something to eat, then smoke weed out behind the pub. 

The bassist ran a shaky hand back through his hair and laughed to himself. He felt uneasy being there, thinking like his friend was still alive. There was an aching in his racing heart and he felt light headed. 

Murdoc sat down on the bed, he buried his face in his hands and groaned. He felt so sick. He shouldn't have gone into his room, it was such a terrible idea. The tears that fell from his eyes smeared against the palms of his hands, he rubbed roughly at his sore eyes as if he could just force himself to stop crying.

He glanced towards the wall with the pictures on it. Something about seeing the pictures hurt more. Seeing pictures of them back when the band had started up, when things were simply chaotic and new. He hated seeing pictures of 2D, hated seeing his dumb gap toothed smile, and that sense of naivety he had to him. 

It really had been a bad idea to go into his room, to do this to himself, but it was his own fault his friend got stabbed. He always just kept on thinking about it, thinking about the different things that could have gone differently. He could have been less of an asshole, could have just talked to him, or taken him to the mens room. 

Fucking love complicated everything. 

Murdoc lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, despite the drugs coursing through his system urging him to move and to do anything he just found himself wanting to lay there. He rolled over onto his side, grabbed hold of a pillow and held it against his chest. He smelled the sweet scent of butterscotch and the faint scent of stale tobacco. He thought about the sweet taste to his friend's lips and how he couldn't stop thinking about it. There was this odd aching in his heart that never stopped, because he couldn't accept his friend's death or the fact that he loved him and was never going to get the chance to admit it to him.


	5. Being Left Behind

“What are you doing in here?” 

Murdoc lifted his head from the pillow he'd spent the entire day curled up around. Russel stood in the doorway of 2D's room seeming like he was far from knowing how to deal this, he wasn't ever fully convinced the bassist felt like a normal human was supposed to feel.

“Oh I don't know just waiting to starve to death or over dose....Whichever comes first, I'm not all that picky.” 

He laid his head back down and sighed. He didn't even really have the energy or the want to tell the plus sized drummer to fuck himself. He just assumed he would go off on his own in a moment, once he realized this situation was beyond abnormal, and that no matter what he wasn't going to get their band leader to do much other than to lay around.

“Did you sleep in here?”

“Yep”

“You know that isn't good for you.”

“Neither is the Scarface amount of cocaine I did earlier, but I still fucking did it.” He remarked bitterly.

At least that was slightly more normal.

“Come on man it's been a long fucking time since 'D died, we need to figure out what we're doing.”

Murdoc cringed at hearing that, he felt his chest hurting when Russel brought up their singer being dead. He avoided saying it and thinking about it so often that it almost felt fictional.

“Do what?”

“I don't know maybe fucking tell people, he isn't coming back. We gotta tell people what happened.”

“We don't have to tell them shit. Just a bunch of fucking idiots.”

He didn't see why the whole stinking world needed to know about 2D dying. It was bad enough that family and friends had to know, that they had to go through the whole funeral ordeal. A funeral at which Murdoc spent most of the time standing outside smoking his way through two packs of cigarettes. Seeing his deceased friend's family had been hard, the way the singer's parents looked at him like they knew their son's death was all his fault. They never said a word to him, he was grateful that they hadn't, but he knew they blamed him for what happened. He hadn't exactly ever been a good luck charm in the case of the blue haired vocalist. 

“You really can't do this forever.”

“So what just be like you and obsess over my dead friend?”

Russel glared at him, but bit back whatever crude comment he wanted to throw in the bassist's direction.

“Know what you can do whatever it is your doing, I can't really even promise that me and Noodle are gonna stick around though.”

Murdoc sat up turning his full attention to the drummer for once.

“So what now you're fucking abandoning me?”

“We haven't done anything at all, you never tell us shit. Look man even before 2D died you never told us a damn thing. You would just do something and spring it on us and expect us to go along like it's no big deal. Now you're fucking locking yourself up in his room and somehow doing more drugs than you were before and it's just....Unless you can get your green ass sober for longer than two seconds and come up with what we do next then yeah we're abandoning you.”

“Fine fuck off, both of you. I don't need you 'round here anyway, you don't do a damned thing, but eat all the fucking food. I was well off without you two idiots hanging around, I'll just come up with an even better fucking band. Maybe one with somebody less fat and with a singer who isn't so bloody stupid.” He yelled at the younger man.

Russel didn't even feel angry by the things the bassist was yelling at him, he sort of figured that's what would come out of this conversation.

“I'm going back inside the house, you just do whatever.”

Murdoc watched as Russel turned and left the room closing the door behind him.

“Don't fucking walk away when I'm talking to you. You useless fat fuck. Fine fuck you too.”

He wasn't even all too sure what to do with the new found silence or the resounding notion that what remained of his band was willing to just walk off like that. It pissed him off, but he couldn't find the energy to throw a proper tantrum over the matter. He was tired and his body felt heavy. He laid his head back down and resumed staring at the pictures hanging up on the wall of his deceased friend. Hey maybe he would wake up to find this all to be a really shit dream.


	6. End of the Band

When he did dream his dreams were nothing but nightmares. Just repetitive nightmares forcing him to relieve that last few minutes of his best friend's life. Starting from 2D's stuttering crush confession, to their awkwardly shared kiss, and all the way to kneeling over his friend's body and angrily demanding him to not die. Now if Murdoc did the right drugs and drank just enough rum then these dreams didn't happen and he wouldn't have to wake up with a cold sweat and severe panic coursing through his body. Tonight wasn't really one of those nights, he just sat there his chest heaving, and eyes wide. He felt paralyzed and everything was so quiet except for his own heavy labored breathing. By now he should be over it. He didn't know why it bothered him so much that somebody died. People came and people went, people lived and then people died. He would do the same thing some day, maybe sooner than that if he continued on the way that he was. Murdoc had always wanted to live fast and die young, he even had somebody tattoo 'Born to Die' on his shoulder just to prove he didn't give a flying fuck about his own life span. The problem seemed to come with the fact that he was nearly forty years old and still rather alive, his twenty something year old friend was out in their landfill coated property buried six feet under.

Life seemed to not be fair.

His own life had for the most part never felt all too fair, but God look at the way things turned out for 2D. His life seemed relevantly care free and alright until Murdoc had bashed his face in with his car. He still heavily noticed how bad luck followed him and touched upon anybody in his life. Even his still living band mates were becoming increasingly miserable. Noodle seemed sad and more withdrawn, keeping away from Russel and Murdoc. The drummer seemed to spend more time spacing out and panicking over what their joined futures would bring.

The sound of fluttering feathers followed by a loud screech made the black haired man jump. He looked to see Cortez perched upon his dresser, eyes shining in the darkness and watching him carefully.

“Come here you mangy bird.” 

Cortez left his spot and flew over to his owner's bed where he landed on the dirtied and stained red blanket. The bird continued to stare up at its owner as if waiting for a command or an explanation for how odd his behavior had been for the past two months.

Murdoc gently pet the bird's head, it pushed up against the palm of his hand encouraging the light sign of affection.

“Least I got you, right old pal?”

His heart wasn't beating at such a frantic pace now, he at least had that satisfaction.

He continued to sit in bed until his pet decided it was done with being pet and flew off and out of the room. Murdoc got up out of bed, he picked a pair of jeans up off of the bed, and pulled them on. He walked out into the kitchenette grabbing a half empty bottle of rum on his way out of his Winnebago and into the mostly silent car lot. He gave a long glance towards 2D's room genuinely considering just wandering in there and moping about for the rest of the day. He forced himself to enter the main part of Kong and search for his band mates though. He was getting slightly sick of the isolation, it was driving him more mad than usual.

Murdoc wandered into the living room where Noodle and Russel sat together on the couch, both looking up when their band leader entered the room. It felt almost as if they had been waiting for him. They continued to watch him as he stood there taking a long drink from the bottle.

“What's going on?” He asked looking between the two of them.

It took him a moment to notice the suitcases stacked by the arm of the couch.

“We need to talk man.” 

“Bout what?”

“Look this....It's done. We were hoping you'd just figure that out and admit it on your own, but that apparently ain't gonna happen.” 

“What the fuck do you mean it's done?” The bassist asked angrily.

Noodle sighed heavily and looked down towards the floor, she slowly kicked her feet back and forth while she waited for this conversation to come to an awkward end.

“The band man. Our singer is dead, we never even made an announcement about it. You know how wrong that is?”

“How's it wrong? Bloody fucking strangers don't have to know what happens with our personal lives.”

The younger man scoffed, “Yeah like your brilliant idea of putting cameras all over Kong so strangers can watch us online.”

“It was a fucking brilliant marketing idea thank you very much. Nobody needs to know that 2D died. They just need to know that we'll come up with something new in the future.”

“With what, how the Hell are we going to come up with something new man? What you gonna be the singer now?”

“I-I could be, why the hell couldn't I?”

“You look like Hell dude, we decided on that years ago.” The drummer shot back glaring up at the older man.

“Fine we'll fucking get some other pretty boy, maybe one with a bit more brain. Not just some brainless fucking wreck who can't last longer than a few years.”

“You shouldn't talk that way about him, he was your friend too.” Noodle said her voice soft.

Murdoc sighed heavily then took another drink from the bottle.

“Sorry luv.” He apologized quietly.

There was a drawn out moment of tense silence until Russel stood up from the couch and grabbed up two of the suitcases that sat by the couch. 

“I think it's time we get out of here. I think you should do the same thing, you're not completely stupid man. I don't know what's going on with you right now.”

“Sorry” Noodle whispered as she got up from the couch.

She approached the bassist and wrapped her arms around him hugging him tightly. Murdoc placed a hand on the back of her head ruffling her bright purple hair.

He was too in shock to be automatically pissed, he wasn't even sure he could be angry at the girl or Russel for that matter. There was an odd sense of emotional pain when his guitarist pulled away and went to join the drummer by the door leading out of the living room and into the main hall. Noodle gave him one last sad tired glance before turning and following Russel out of the room. 

Murdoc walked around to the torn up brown recliner by the couch and flopped down onto it tossing his legs over the arm of it. He took another drink from the bottle draining it completely, he dropped it to the floor, then buried his face in his hands. It wasn't even a full minute before he found himself crying.


	7. Ressurection

His barely existent grip on sanity was slipping or perhaps it had slipped already. There was something in the silence of a large vacant house that felt suffocating. Murdoc wasn't accustomed to this level of loneliness, this much isolation. He had spent hours and days after Noodle and Russel left him to his own devices expecting for them to come back, for a single phone call, or a text message to say they would return. He didn't expect them to leave for good. He didn't expect to be left all alone in this place. The isolation reminded him too much of his childhood. So many times he would hide away in his room or the hallway closet just hoping his father or his brother wouldn't find him, wouldn't hurt him more than they already had that day. He was grown now, his family was miles and miles away; other than the occasional threat letter from his father and violent voice mail from Hannibal, he hardly heard word from them. They were mostly in the past. This was a different type of loneliness and isolation. This was one he didn't want and one he hadn't sought out, but he'd brought it upon himself.

He could have gone off with them. He could have just come right out and admitted he needed to move on with his life, even if it meant going back to being a filthy rotten bastard. It would have been better than this. He'd had the chance to pull himself out of this slump of immense depression; to just admit to himself for once that 2D was dead and nothing was going to change that.

But for all the forces of Heaven and Hell he couldn't bring himself to do that. He no longer could even bring himself to leave the confinements of his Winnebago. The small metal home on wheels was constricting and made him feel like he was suffocating, but it beat the terrifying silence that was inside of Kong. It beat the silence inside of 2D's bedroom.

At this point he noticed every minute sound, fixated on them really. He fixated on the sounds of his own heavy breathing and the pounding of his heart against his chest when he'd wake up from a nightmare. He fixated on the tapping of dripping water in the kitchen sink, the sound of Cortez grooming himself. He fixated on the sound of his bass as he lazily plucked at the strings just to distract himself from this deathly silence. He closed his eyes and thought about how so long and very not long ago there used to be a blue haired moron lounging out on the floor listening to him strum away at his bass. The memories were comforting until he would open his eyes. He'd cling to them, hold onto them like a drowning man holding onto a raft in the middle of dangerous waters. Murdoc immersed himself in memories of up scale hotel rooms, laughing as his idiot friend would spray paint the walls and complain about how shit the paintings of boats and flowers were. He'd be pulled from pleasant and casual memories when he'd hear a banging off in the distance of the car lot or the sound of Cortez squawking at him, begging for attention.

Tonight was one of his worse days.

Though to consider he had been wearing the same clothes for nearly a week now and for the life of himself couldn't recall the last time he had eaten anything. He could easily recall the last line he snorted, the last bowl he smoked, and the last bottle of rum he had chugged, but when it came to eating or bathing he couldn't remember a damned thing.

He did know the quiet was driving him up the wall. He was focusing in on it far too much right now, it was making his head spin. He tapped his fingers anxiously against the top of the small table in his kitchenette, his boot clad foot tapped in time against the grimy carpet. Every now and again he'd push his fingers back through his greasy black mop of hair forcing it away from his face, but it fell back into place a moment later. His skin felt itchy, his mouth was dry, and he was going to scream. He hadn't cried for awhile. He gave himself that much credit. Was that improvement?

He moved on from crying to snorting enough coke to forget how to cry. That felt like an improvement. In another month or year he could possibly convince himself to go outside.

Right now he could only get himself to listen intently to the silence. To the sound of his own breathing. He played nervously with the inverted cross that hung from his neck. His index finger traced over the gold that was warm from being against his skin so often. His eyes fixated on the dirt on the once white table top, he looked from it to his yellowed chipped nails. He noted how the red polish on his pinky was chipping off, he'd need to do a fresh coat again. 

He hardly paid attention to it when he heard Cortez frantically flying around the vehicle. The bird got restless and angry quite a lot lately. It didn't even phase him anymore.

His mind wandered and he thought if this was just a dream. It could be a dream. He could wake up any moment. The silence lured him into that fantasy so much that his eyelids drooped and soon enough he was allowing himself into the idea that this was just a stinking dream. This wasn't his reality, this was some shit reality he made up inside of his own mind. In the real reality he had to be back at the hotel they had been staying at before. He'd just had too much to drink that night, besides his best friend had kissed him. That's a lot to take in, to deal with. That fight had never happened, there were no guys. Just the two of them fighting in the alley. 2D had run back inside, Murdoc had followed not too long after, took him to the side and apologized. He had kissed him proper, told him again he was sorry for lashing out at him. They had taken a cab to the hotel, had gone up to their room, and fucked. 

Yeah that was it. That was what had happened that night.

Not this. He wasn't here, he wasn't alone.

He closed his eyes tightly and tried to transfer his fantasy into reality. He tried to think just how it would feel to be skin to skin with the scrawny front man. What 2D's lips against his neck would feel like. He needed to feel that, he needed to taste him and know how it would sound when he would be moaning beneath him. If he could just fucking focus hard enough it would be real, it wouldn't be fake anymore.

He balled his hands into fists and slammed them against the table top in frustration. A pained groan followed by a choked sob erupted from him and he was back to crying.

Cortez was startled by the slamming of the black haired man's fists against the table and flew from his spot on the counter and over towards a shelf above where his owner sat. In the process he knocked several books off the shelf, one of the heavier hit against Murdoc's shoulder before falling open on the floor. The bassist jumped up startled and began cursing at the bird for being stupid and at the opened book for hitting him.

Murdoc stood rubbing at his sore shoulder and glaring down at the open book.

Its pages were slightly discolored, tears and water damage telling its age. He went from glaring at it to staring dully at it while his drug addled mind tried to process what exactly it was.

“Now you....I haven't seen you for years now have I?” He spoke as he knelt down to pick the book up.

He held it gently like it was made of glass, he placed it lightly on the table and began looking through it.

He recalled his phase of obsessing over rituals and curses. Every religion had them, but very few truly believed in them. Even fewer had books in dedication on performing such things. 

Murdoc smirked to himself thinking about when he had bought the book. How pissed off Russel had been at him for bringing something with so much dark energy along with them on tour. He had gone through every page of the book and had done every half ass spell he could think of. He summoned a couple dozen imp like demons that drove the drummer bat shit and caused a few roadies to quit their job. He remembered Noodle telling him it was dumb to mess with something like that, but he'd been too busy trying to figure out how to become the King of Hell. He already had the bass from Hell and he lived in a car lot that had an open portal to Hell, but still there was always more to be had. 2D had been less negative about the giant dark leather book full of spells and demonic rituals. He found it interesting, didn't even question it when the bassist made a voodoo doll to resemble him. 

The book had been fun then, but too many deals and too many demons. Things had gotten a tad out of hand, Russel had threaten to break his neck, long story short Murdoc assured the drummer he had disposed of the book. 

Now it was here again, he had forgotten all about shoving it up on the shelf with his other books. He really hadn't cared too much about it after so long, but now it was back and so was his interest.

The page that caught his attention the most was the one about bringing back the dead.

There were many spells and rituals for it, methods, etc.

He felt his heart beating harder as he looked over them, narrowed them down until he got to the one that was what he was sure that he needed. One spell assured there were no bad effects. Only one ritual promised it could bring back a loved one at a price, but he didn't care about that. He traced his fingers over the page feeling the fragile material of the paper, he wanted to trace every letter that promised it could bring his friend back to life.

All that he needed was a knife, a shovel, and another bottle of rum just to assure he would go through with it. It wasn't like he was sober at that point, but some part of him questioned if this was right.

It was right though. 2D shouldn't be dead, he was too young for something like that and nothing about it was right. He had thought over this for months now, this was the right thing to do. It wasn't a big deal. Another ritual. Sell his soul to yet another demon. He could do this, he'd done this a dozen times before.

Within half an hour of convincing himself he made his way out into the chill night air and down to the landfill where his friend's grave still remained.

Murdoc stared down at it, read over it again and again trying to burn it into his mind, because right now literally nothing felt real. The cold air against his skin felt real, the chill he was getting grounded him to the present, but just barely. He was functioning on a mixture of autopilot and over emotion. He read through the Latin words on the withered page, he demanded to speak to the guardian of the dead. He didn't even flinch or pause before slicing the knife over the back of his hand and allowing the blood to drip down onto the grass below him. 

The silence though was back. There wasn't even the sound of the wind blowing garbage across the ground or the sound of birds chirping in the distance. No this was silence. The type you would achieve inside of a glass dome. 

A thick dark nearly black fog rolled across the ground making it hard to see, the only sound now was the sound of glass and metal crunching beneath heavy foot steps. Murdoc could see red glowing eyes growing closer as the sound of foot steps neared where he stood still at the grave site. 

Out of the blackened fog stepped a God awful looking creature.

It appeared near his own height if not a few inches taller, its body was mostly covered with a black cloak full of holes. Through the holes in the leathery fabric he could make out rotting flesh and bone, the creature's long arms were bone thin and its skin was gray. Its fingers ended in sharpened claws like a dangerous animal hunting something small and frightened, its head consisted mostly of exposed skull with sparse patches of rotting flesh. Its eyes were large and glowed red, they didn't even look like eyes; it was more so like something had taken red jewels and shoved them into the eye holes of a skull. He couldn't help but stare into the demon's eyes. He thought of rhinestones as he looked into them.

“You shouldn't have summoned me.” The demon said, its voice was a rough rasp that startled the bassist.

“Why the hell not?” He asked sounding irritated.

He didn't want it to know it was scaring the shit out of him. He hated it when demons came about looking creepy as hell, it was like they wanted to make him look bad.

“You have a lot of contracts in Hell right now.”

“So what?”

“I'm not one you summon to play games.”

“I'm not playing a fucking game, I wouldn't have called you here if I wasn't serious.” He shot back angrily.

The demon tilted its head to the side, bones cracked and more flesh dropped from its form and onto the ground. 

Murdoc shifted uncomfortably as it stared at him with its rhinestone eyes and slightly gaping mouth full of razor sharp fangs.

“Why does the body beneath the ground mean so much to you?”

“He's my fucking singer that's why.”

“I told you I don't play games.”

The bassist growled in frustration. The demon only continued to stare and wait.

“Fine it's cause I fucking love him and he died cause of me. I'm a shit fucking human being and I can't stand living with what happened. Happy now?”

“I'll be back in one year.” 

“For what?”

“For you. Don't try to cheat me, it won't end well for him.”

The demon knelt down and placed its clawed hand on the ground. Murdoc watched as it curled its fingers against the ground its long claws piercing the soil. There was another shift in the air as something changed. The demon rose back to its feet and again looked him in the eye, no emotion really visible on its gory features.

“One year.” It stated again before turning and leaving taking the blackened fog with it.

“Fucking..”

He lingered on it until the fog disappeared completely and sound came back to the world around him. After that he stopped caring about the grotesque creature or its lack of ability to bargain. 

Murdoc grabbed up the shovel that lay on the ground and began digging into the Earth as quickly as he could get himself to. Each minute that passed felt like an eternity and far too long, he cursed beneath his breath after every shovel full of Earth that he threw to the side as he got deeper and deeper into the soft darkened soil. There was a nervous wave of relief when he hit the lid of the coffin with the shovel. He tossed the shovel up out of the hole and made quick work of prying the lid from the box. In his mind he couldn't help but be scared about what he was going to find. He was scared he just lost it completely and he wasn't digging up anything but disappointment.

Inside he found 2D; the suit he'd been buried in was torn and dirty from months of decay, his blue hair was nearly shoulder length and tangled. His skin was pale and his eyes remained closed. Murdoc cautiously placed two fingers against the side of his neck feeling for a pulse.

“C'mon please just fucking prove I'm not that bloody insane. Please” He quietly begged.

When he felt a pulse he jerked his hand away. He sat back looking down at the body in the coffin, he noticed the slow rise and fall of his chest, he noticed when his fingers began to twitch. When 2D opened his shining black eyes and looked up at him with a look of fear and disorientation he couldn't help but grab him and pull him into his arms. The younger musician was limp against him, he breathed heavily pulling air into his lungs as he tried to assess what had happened. Murdoc pulled him back and held him at arms length looking at him.

“That fucking you, you really alive?” He asked as he looked over the still confused looking singer.

2D slowly nodded in agreement as he looked at the bassist.

This time when Murdoc pulled him against himself 2D wrapped his arms around him holding him back. 

“I missed you” The bassist whispered against his neck.

This was reality. This was his reality. It was okay, things would be okay. 2D was alive again, he'd worry about the rest later.


	8. Don't Leave Me

It took the longest time to get 2D from the landfill up to the car lot. He didn't weigh much at all, but it looked like the singer had a hard time figuring out how to walk properly and the way that he clung onto the bassist's side didn't make helping him along easier either. When they made it in the safety of their home Murdoc lead the younger man to his old bedroom and sat him down on the bed. 2D sat with his hands on his lap, body trembling slightly as he looked around his room. Murdoc stood in front of him trying to figure out where to go from here. He hadn't planned out much, he didn't know what state the other man was in right now.

“You know where you are?” Murdoc asked breaking the odd silence in the room.

2D jumped at the sound of his voice, black eyes now focusing on him. The singer stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Good good....Can you talk?”

The younger musician looked away.

“Give it a try mate, come on.”

2D furrowed his brow as he concentrated and tried to force himself to speak, he managed to make small frustrated sounds, but nothing in the form of words. It worried the older man, but he assured himself it was just shock. He'd have his voice back again, just not right now. He was fine, he would be fine.

“It's alright don't stress yourself over it. Should probably get you into different clothes, those ones look like shit.” Murdoc said looking at the torn and dirty black suit his friend was wearing.

He tried to not think about it too much. In the back of his mind he prayed this was just another bad acid trip. There was no way in Hell he was so stupid and selfish that he would bring somebody back to life just to make himself less alone, less guilty.

He told himself that as he went over to the pile of clothes on the floor and grabbed up a shirt and jeans for the blue haired singer still sitting on the bed. It wasn't all that long ago that there was nobody else in the room, that it was just himself shambling around an empty mansion like a pathetic lunatic.

Murdoc returned to the bed, he sat the clothes down beside the younger man.

“I'm gonna help you change clothes, alright?”

2D was still staring up at him, if he was even really coherent enough to listen then he didn't have any arguments. He didn't fight or flinch when Murdoc went to work to remove the filthy jacket, dress shirt, or dress pants he was wearing. The bassist noticed the scar on his pale scrawny body where he had been stabbed, he had the urge to touch it just to make sure it was really there, but he didn't want to push that boundary. He felt weird enough helping the younger man get dressed. Once he was fully clothed Murdoc looked at his dirty tangled locks of hair that were getting too long.

“We'll take care of that later.” He muttered to himself, he idly ran his fingers through his friend's hair not really thinking much about it until 2D took hold of his wrist.

The singer rubbed his thumb against his wrist, black eyes focused on his hand. Murdoc stood still and watched as his friend slowly ran his hand up along his forearm, 2D's eyes focused on his and for a second he could forget that his friend had spent these past months six feet under. It only ended when 2D abruptly pulled his hand away like he just realized he was doing something that he shouldn't be.

“Hey it's alright, I won't hurt you.” The dark haired man assured

Again the vocalist tried to speak, but only squeaks came out. He shook his head frustrated with himself and his inability to form words.

“It's okay don't worry about that now, we'll worry about all that later. Just rest now, yeah?”

Murdoc patted the younger man on the head, when he pulled his hand away 2D grabbed hold of his wrist again. His grip was still gentle and would be the easiest thing in the world to pull from, but Murdoc didn't feel much like pulling away. He was still working past the fact 2D was touching him right now, his skin felt warm. 

“Want me to stay?” 

The singer nodded.

“Alright I'll stay if you want me to.” 

The bassist got into the bed he had spent many nights sleeping in, but mostly just lying there sobbing through the night and morning. This time was different though. He watched as 2D slowly laid down like he was still nervous that the wrong move would make things go back to before, Murdoc shared the same paranoia. Murdoc touched his fingertips against his friend's cheek, he brushed his fingers against his soft skin. He felt a lump in his throat as tears burned his eyes, he moved closer to the taller man until there was barely any space left between them. Murdoc wrapped an arm around him curling his fingers in his hair, he buried his face against the singer's chest and cried.

“Please don't leave again. I don't think I could fucking deal with it if you aren't here when I wake up.”

He didn't know what was real anymore. He was coming down from his earlier high, all that had taken place, and what was taking place now left him feeling completely insane. Whatever reality he felt he'd had a grip on he was totally losing at this point. 

Murdoc shivered when he felt warm breath followed by lips pressing against the top of his head. 2D wrapped his arms around him holding onto him; he was too tired and confused to question to situation. If it was all in his mind then it was a rather pleasant place to be.


	9. Catching Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everybody who is reading this fic. I really love writing this and Gorillaz has been one of my favorite things ever since I was about in the sixth grade so writing fan fiction about these charaters is something I've always enjoyed. Seeing people enjoy what I write makes it even better.

He swore to Satan it was all a dream when he woke up alone in 2D's bed. He had a sort of odd hopeful feeling that it was all just a dream, because he didn't want to think about how much he possibly fucked up. 

Murdoc reached out towards the night stand grabbing a bottle of beer in the process knocking two empty bottles over. He pulled himself into a sitting position and took a long drink from the bottle. His mind in a cloudy hung over way still clung to what may or may not have happened. What couldn't have happened. He told himself he'd just done too many drugs, had too much to drink, and got in too deep. He settled on that after a moment or two, he felt less shaky and anxious as he climbed out of 2D's bed and casually made his way to the adjoined bathroom to take a piss.

The Satanist stopped in the doorway to the bathroom, that anxious feeling hit him all over again as he looked into the bath tub. 2D was sitting in a tub full of water, he was working at washing dirt and grime from his arms. He turned his head and looked up at the older man when he caught sight of him just standing there out of the corner of his eye.

Neither of them spoke. Murdoc wasn't sure he was awake or sane at this point, he wasn't sure if he wanted to grab hold of him and never let go or if he wanted to throw himself into the nearest pit for messing with nature in the wrong way, again. The bassist took another drink from the bottle emptying it, he tossed it to the side.

“You're....You're really here right?” He asked slowly still not sure what was going on.

He knew what was going on. He just didn't really know how wrong or right it was.

“I think so, how stoned are you?” The singer asked as he continued to look up at his friend.

Murdoc shifted his weight from one foot to the other, “Not sure yet. Hey um....What all do you remember?”

2D looked down into the water as he tried to think about that.

“Not a whole lot. I think. I'm kind of thinking I'm dreaming right now or maybe I was dreaming before?”

“No you're awake now mate, trust me we're both awake.” The bassist responded his voice low.

He couldn't take his eyes off of his friend, he still feared looking away from him. God it had been so long since he had seen him, seen him alive. Hearing his voice again was even nicer, seeing how frustrated he got when he wasn't sure what he was trying to say.

“So what was real?”

Murdoc let out a heavy sigh, “It's rather difficult you know....Look get washed up and we can talk about it. Alright?”

“Yeah okay then”

Murdoc waited a second before exiting the bathroom and going back to the bed where he laid down staring up at the ceiling trying to contemplate how to go about things. 

So he possibly had a complete mental breakdown and brought his dead singer back to life while he was completely drunk and coked out of his mind. Now he had to explain it to him. He wasn't even all too sure about things himself, his motivation or why he thought this was such a bright idea. 

Seeing him again though; dear Satan there was something magical in that. He didn't think it would ever happen, not in this life or the next one. There was a lot he wanted to say and do, just to change. A part of his mind suggested he just lie, tell him that the dying thing never happened, and everything was okay. Even for him that was far too cruel though. 

He didn't know. He didn't know how to deal with this, not sober anyway. Being alone had just driven him so fucking crazy. He ended up spending so much time in his fantasies about how things could have turned out if he'd been less of a bastard, he wanted those fantasies so badly he could nearly feel them.

“You okay?” 2D asked cautiously running his fingers through the older man's hair pushing his fringe away from his face.

Murdoc closed his eyes, he focused on the feeling of fingers combing through his hair and brushing against his skin. There was such an odd strong desire he wasn't accustomed to feeling, it scared him.

“I'm fine....Just thinking”

“Am I dead?” 2D asked after a moment of silence, he continued to pet his fingers through his friend's hair.

Murdoc opened his eyes looking up at him, the younger stared down at him patiently waiting for a response to a dark and basic question.

“No you aren't”

“So what happened then?”

The older man sat up and turned to face his friend.

“Try and think, alright? Just what do you remember?”

He waited patiently as the younger musician racked his brain to remember the past months, to remember anything really. 

“Remember us fighting cause I kissed you....I think I remember getting in a fight with some guys outside the pub.” 

2D groaned in frustration, he placed his face in his hands digging his fingers into his scalp as he did his best to remember all that had happened.

“You got hurt an-and I went to help, but then something hurt a fucking lot.”

The blue haired man lifted his head to look at his friend again, Murdoc looked away nervously.

“There's, there's no fucking way that happened. Right? I'm just fucking dreaming or something.”

Murdoc shook his head, he still couldn't look at him.

“Tell me that didn't happen.”

“Murdoc tell me what the fuck happened.” The younger man demanded angrily.

“You died, alright? That fucking ponce stabbed you and you bled out, I couldn't fucking do anything about it.” He snapped finally looking his friend in the eye.

He watched as 2D got up off of the bed and began pacing the room, he raked shaking fingers back through still wet blue hair as he tried to grasp this. 

“I died...I fucking died. It doesn't make any sense.”

“Uh yeah it does.”

“How?” The taller man asked as he stopped long enough to stare down at his friend and wait for an explanation.

“I was there mate you were fucking dead, alright?”

“Then why am I...Not dead”

“I fixed it”

“Fixed what?”

“What the fuck else, you being dead.” Murdoc responded rolling his eyes at his friend's stupidity.

“How did you....Why the fuck did you even, why did you bring me back?”

“What you prefer being dead?”

“I....I don't, it was a tad bit less fucking complicated being dead. I don't even get why the Hell you would bring me back, how long have I even been dead for?”

“Awhile....Not too long though.”

He tried his best to not notice the frustration on his friend's face. He knew this had to hurt and be confusing.

“Why did you bring me back, figured me being dead would be your fucking wet dream.”

“Fuck off. You're my damn singer, band is no bloody good without a brainless pretty boy on the mic now is it?” The older man shot back as he got up off of the bed.

The two of them stood glaring at one another, “So that's it then, you fucking pull me out of nirvana just so you can make more money?”

“Yeah what fucking else?”

“You're a selfish fucking asshole you know that?”

Murdoc shrugged.

He felt uncomfortable when a silence came between them. That moment of fully realizing everything that had happened. 2D's hands still trembled with from the anxiety he felt, Murdoc was still questioning why he had to say and do the things he did. 2D felt relieved and scared when the shorter man left the room closing the door behind him. Murdoc felt sick and angry with himself as he went to his Winnebago slamming open the broken screen door. He picked his pack of cigarettes and lighter up from the kitchen counter, he pulled out a cigarette placing it between his lips and lighting it. The smoke filling up his rotting lungs made him relax just the slightest bit. He still continued to stand around, foot tapping nervously against the grimy floor beneath him.

This wasn't how it should go. He didn't just bring somebody back to life just so they could fight. 

Murdoc left his Winnebago and quickly made his way to the singer's room. He knocked on the now locked door, he stood and waited impatiently still smoking to try and settle the heavy beating of his heart. He felt lost at what he should do or say when 2D unlocked and opened the door. The singer leaned against the door frame, arms folded across his chest. He looked angry and like he had just gotten a good few seconds of crying in before his band mate interrupted him. Murdoc took another drag from his cigarette, he breathed the smoke out then dropped what was left to the concrete ground. 

He stepped towards the taller man, he placed a hand on the back of his neck his calloused fingers brushing against his skin. He pulled 2D closer to himself and leaned up pressing his lips to his kissing him hard. Murdoc felt this odd heavy dizzying anxiety and fear, he'd felt it for months now. It surged when 2D grabbed the front of his shirt, he feared his friend would shove him away like he'd done to him months back. When the blue haired man turned him and pushed him back up against the car lot wall he smirked against his lips. He groaned and moaned as his friend's lips worked against his and he couldn't hope harder in his mind that this was all really happening. 

When they broke apart breathing heavily, staring into each others half lidded eyes they were relieved to find one another still there.

“Maybe we can go for drinks, I can catch you up on everything.” Murdoc suggested

“Yeah okay” 

They made no move to leave, nothing made much sense anymore. It felt grounding though when 2D kissed him though, like the world was making up for its fuck ups.


	10. Making Up Lost Time

They seated themselves far back in the pub to keep from prying eyes and ears. They went through two beers and three shots of rum before they wanted to even broach the subject of everything that had taken place in the past months. 2D's fingers tapped nervously against the table top, he started to pull away when Murdoc placed a hand over his, but chose to keep it there instead. 

“You're so warm” The older man muttered to himself.

The singer raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn't I be?” 

“Huh? Yeah....Yeah I mean you should, just-forget it.”

Murdoc lightly rubbed his thumb against his friend's skin nearly fascinated by these events.

“So where are Russ and Noodle?” 

The dark haired man looked up from 2D's hand and into his blacked out eyes.

“I don't know anymore, never answer my bloody phone calls.” 

2D gave another confused look.

“Don't they live with us anymore?”

“No, they left awhile ago mate.”

The bassist still felt betrayed by it, but for the love of everything he was going to love shoving this in their faces.

“How come?”

“You died, no singer so no band. No reason to stick 'round.”

“Why didn't you just replace me then?”

“Why the fuck would I go and do that for?” 

“Um....Well shouldn't there be other blokes who could sing well?”

The older man shrugged, “Well yeah plenty of blokes can sing, but they wouldn't be you now would they?”

The younger man looked confused as he tried to process that for a moment.

“You really just bring me back so I can sing?”

“Course not”

“Then why did you say that?” 2D asked, he narrowed his eyes at the other man.

“I'm a dick, you already know all that. Fucking Hell you've been dead for so long I'm still getting my head around this.”

“So am I, I don't even remember nothing. Just....Nothing”

“That's not new now is it?” Murdoc asked smirking.

2D flicked the top of his hand.

“Right, sorry....Look don't worry about remembering all of that. Not important now is it?”

The blue haired man tilted his head slightly to the side, “It is to me....I guess I rather know about what happened here though.”

“Not a whole lot.”

“Does everybody in the world know I died?” The younger man asked nervously glancing around the building with its very few patrons.

“Nope we just kept it to friends, close musicians, and your family members.”

2D's eyes widened slightly, “Oh God I-are my parents okay?”

“I suppose they are, last I heard they are. Your mom was ready to fucking slaughter me at your funeral.” 

He had to admit he felt guilt over it, the things she had yelled at him. She had been right though, he had ruined her only son's life.

“Oh....Sorry about that. I should call them later I think.”

“Probably a good idea mate.”

“So um what did you do the whole time I've been dead?”

The bassist tensed slightly at the question. He found himself reaching for the shot glass next to himself and quickly downing the contents.

“Not a whole lot”

“I figured you'd have lots to do with me gone.”

“Surprisingly no....Fucking miserable time really.” He admitted.

“Really?”

Murdoc nodded slowly, “Yeah just fucking moped around a lot. Couldn't stop thinking 'bout what happened to you.”

He felt sick and scared thinking about it and speaking about it. 

“Satan I missed you, you got no fucking idea. I didn't even know I'd miss you, specially not as much as I did.” 

2D took hold of his hand lacing their fingers together. The older musician glanced up meeting his eyes, even with them all blacked out he could tell he felt sad for him.

“I'm sorry about that night mate. I wouldn't have fucking said what I did if I'd known what would happen to you. I really do regret it, I'd fucking do anything to change it. I brought you back just so I could fucking tell you....”

Murdoc pulled his hand away from the younger man's, he buried his face in his hands. He felt stupid and insane, more than he normally did. 

The singer took hold of his wrists prying his hands away from his face so he had to look at him.

“Tell me what?”

“I'm sorry, so fucking sorry. It's funny saying that, really meaning it for once. I just think about how things could have gone, I could have done way better by you.”

“I'm alive now though and it wasn't your fault that guy did that to me.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Yeah you were a fucking asshole, you always are. Still not your fault he stabbed me.”

Murdoc smirked, “You're either far too fucking forgiving or completely brain dead.”

2D smiled at him.

“So what um would you have done differently then?” The singer asked curiously.

The bassist felt more relaxed now, more comfortable.

“I would have done a half ass apology, taken you off to the side and kissed you proper....Maybe we could have headed back to the hotel, had a bit of fun y'know.”

“Could do that now” 2D suggested

“You sure you up for it?”

“I haven't had sex for months, course I'm up for it.” 

“Same here mate, let's get back home then shall we?”


	11. Love You

“Fucking Hell I missed you.” Murdoc whispered against the taller man's lips. 

2D moaned when the older man bit down against his neck, he dug his fingers into the back of his head his fingers tangled in greasy black hair. Murdoc swiped his tongue back and forth over the teeth marks in his friend's skin. The singer hard on the older man's hair causing him to pull away from his neck and look up into his blackened eyes. He smirked at his friend, his calloused fingers wandered up and down along his pale skin.

“Just for sex?” 2D asked, he cupped the older man's face in his hands.

“Well we haven't got to that yet now have we?” Murdoc responded, he lightly trailed his fingertips over along his band mate's ribs. He could feel the singer shiver under his touch which made him smile slightly.

“You just miss me then?” He asked curiously

“Fucking more than anything.....I kept wondering what it would be like to have you like this.”

2D groaned when Murdoc's hand moved from his ribs to his abdomen to the front of his jeans, hand pushing and rubbing against his erection. The blue haired man moved against his hand gaining enough friction to make himself moan.

The black haired man ran his serpent like tongue up along the front of his throat.

“What you think about doing with me?” 

“A lot of things....We got plenty of time for me to work through the list.” 

Murdoc lifted the younger man up off of his lap and sat him down on the bed. 2D watched him as he got down on the floor kneeling between his legs. The bassist palmed, squeezed, and rubbed against the bulge in his friend's jeans earning whimpers and moans. 2D leaned back on his elbows, dark eyes still locked on what his friend was doing to him. His moans grew louder echoing in his cluttered bedroom when a warm mouth and wet tongue began pressing and running along the front of his jeans. His fingers found themselves tangled in black hair again not sure if he wanted to push or pull, hard. 

The bassist quickly unfastened his band mate's pants and slid them down to his ankles, 2D awkwardly pushed them off over his feet and onto the floor. The dark haired man placed his hands on the younger man's knees pushing his legs further apart, he leaned up and began kissing and nipping at his inner thighs. He worked closer to his cock, hot breath hitting against sensitive flesh. 2D's hips jerked when that tongue lightly lapped against his balls.

“Mu-Murdoc”

The older man chuckled to himself at the choked way his band mate moaned out his name. He appreciated the flushed look on his face and his blue hair sticking to his skin.

Murdoc continued to give occasional licks to his friend's balls, he sucked at the ultra sensitive skin earning more high pitched moans and the frantic bucking of the scrawnier man's hips. He moved up to his cock trailing his tongue from the base to the tip, he wrapped his tongue around the head of his cock squeezing slightly, the tip of his tongue playing along the tip of the younger man's erection. He had the blue haired man writhing beneath him, begging, and crying out his name. It had to be the most gorgeous thing he'd heard for months now. It was hell making himself stop and get to his feet.

He laughed at the confused and flustered look on the younger man's face when he stopped.

“Why you stop for?”

“I got other things I want to do with you mate, not just blow you.”

“Oh...Hey um you mind if I try something when we shag?”

“Not at all, I'm flexible.” Murdoc responded smirking.

The bassist removed his own jeans and his thong before getting back on the bed. He sat with his back to the wall and watched his friend. 2D moved over to the night stand grabbing up the nearly empty bottle of lube that sat on top of the stand.

“This was full last time I saw it.”

“I got bored, alright?”

“Couldn't you do that in your own room?”

“It was for sentimental purposes alright luv?”

The younger man laughed and shook his head, Murdoc liked that sound. He was rather cute when he was happy.

The bassist watched as 2D got back onto the bed, he sat in front of him leaning back, legs spread and his knees bent up. If he was right then the singer was looking at him, but for the love of everything unholy he couldn't tell half of the time if he was right about that. Murdoc was focused on him though, watching him lube up his fingers, touch over himself and press two fingers up inside of himself. 2D moaned, eyes now half lidded as he pushed his fingers in and out of himself, working himself open. Murdoc found himself stroking his own cock as he watched his friend prepping himself.

“Fucking Hell...” 

The younger man smirked at the harshly whispered comment.

“Fuck” 2D moaned when he hit against his own prostate. He gently worked his fingers against that sweet spot, he closed his eyes, head thrown back and his too long hair brushing over his sweat soaked skin. 

Murdoc moved over to him grabbing hold of his wrist forcing him to stop in his actions. 2D lifted his head and looked up at the older man and his blown pupils and that look of pure urgency on his face.

“You're driving me completely mad you know.”

“Thought you were already there”

“Jury is still out on that one...” Murdoc responded, he grabbed the younger man by his legs pulling him up onto his lap.

2D took hold of the Satanist's cock holding it by the base, he pulled himself up and slowly lowered himself onto his partner's erection. He placed his hands on Murdoc's shoulders gripping tightly as he took all of him in. The bassist kissed and licked his skin, whispering how fucking brilliant he felt, and how badly he had needed this. 

When he was fully inside they stayed still for a moment; lightly kissing and touching each other, exploring in a way that was gentle and odd for either of them. Nothing they were accustomed to, but this was an exception. 

“You alright?”

“Yeah”

“Good, go at whatever pace you want mate.”

2D nodded, he leaned in kissing the older man hard. It was the kind of hard sloppy kiss that reminded Murdoc of the first time his friend had kissed him. That awkward moment of just going for it. The memory had him holding onto the taller man and kissing him back with a strong sense of neediness. 2D moved his hips fucking himself on him, Murdoc thrust up into him meeting his slowly building pace. He wondered if he was thinking about that as well. It was mind boggling it could have gone differently, could have ended up this way.

“Fuck you feel incredible, fucking gorgeous you know.”

2D didn't reply outside of moans and curses, he buried his face against the older man's chest, his nails dug into his shoulders leaving small marks that wouldn't last longer than a day or so. 

Murdoc lay back on the bed, he kept his hands on 2D's hips, fingers tracing over the nearly visible bones, the singer kept his hands on the older man's chest supporting himself as he moved up and down thrusting against his cock over and over again. When he leaned in just the right way he could rub himself against Murdoc's stomach, he closed his eyes moaning loudly each time he would do that, his cock twitched when the bassist reached down rubbing his calloused thumb around and over the head of his cock.

“Fucking beautiful thing you are....Fucking Hell Stu just like that.” 

He found himself getting closer, his own breathing heavy and ragged. His skin was sweaty, his already greasy hair was sticking to his skin and every inch of his body felt sensitive to even the slightest touch. Murdoc nearly forgot just how fucking incredible sex could feel, he really shouldn't have gone so long without it. 

He was done in when 2D kept fucking him like that, the singer kept rubbing against him until he brought himself to climax cumming over the bassist's stomach and up onto his chest. That and the desperate way he moaned out his name was enough to have Murdoc reaching his own peak cumming inside of his friend. 

2D lay down against him his breathing still heavy, he didn't care if he was getting his own cum on himself. He was exhausted and Murdoc made no move to get away from him or to tell him he needed to get off of him. They just enjoyed the moment they were having right now, resting, and listening to one another breathe. Murdoc just liked knowing that 2D could breathe.

“I think I could use a bath.” 2D said after a few minutes of silence had passed.

“Make it a shower and I'll join you.”

“Alright” The singer agreed.

He slowly moved himself up off of the older musician and made his way towards the bathroom. Murdoc remained on the bed until he heard the water running in the next room. He got up and joined his friend in the shower, he stepped up behind him under the spray of water and wrapped his arms loosely around his waist.

“Love you” Murdoc said before kissing his shoulder blade.

“Mean it?”

“I mean most of what I say....I wouldn't bull shit about that mate.”

2D placed a hand over Murdoc's lacing their fingers together.

“Love you too”


	12. Forever?

“Hold still mate, make it easier on me to cut this rats nest you call hair.” Murdoc commented annoyed by trying to cut through the long wet tangled mess that was 2D's hair at the moment.

Months of being dead had caused it to grow at quite a fast rate, the singer's lack of ability to really take care of himself made it tangle frequently. Again the singer cringed and jerked away when the bassist tried to work the comb through a knot at the back of his head. The bassist grabbed him by the top of the head jerking him back.

“Still” 

“I'm trying, not my fault you keep bloody trying to pull my head off.”

“Stop being a baby, you handled being stabbed better than you handle a fucking comb.” The older man retorted.

2D turned his head to glare at him over his shoulder.

“Too soon?”

“A little, yeah”

“Sorry”

The singer shrugged and turned to face the wall again. He made less of a fuss as Murdoc worked through the knots getting most of it untangled. He took the scissors to his friend's hair doing away with what he could then combing out the rest to make sure the length wasn't too terrible.

“When you learn to cut hair?”

“Mum taught me”

“Which one?”

“The second one”

“Oh....She the one that sung Ziggy Stardust to you?”

“Yeah, yeah that's the one.” Murdoc replied quietly.

2D hummed the song to himself while tapping his fingers against his thigh. Murdoc continued cutting through his hair until it was beginning to resemble the short mess it had been back before his death. 

“You stay in here a lot while I was dead?” 

“Your room? Yeah I did, thought it would make me feel better.” He said smiling sadly to himself.

Murdoc sat the scissors to the side and began running his fingers through the messy light blue locks. He was still amazed how this was his friend's natural color and if in a week or so it turned to a shade of purple he knew that would be just as natural, it was always changing in one way or another, but always back to this light shade of blue.

“Alright I'm done, it doesn't look too bloody awful. No worse than you had it before you died.”

He handed a hand mirror to the singer, 2D looked at himself in the mirror smiling dumbly at his reflection.

“Don't look too bad, I like it. Thanks Muds.” He said sitting the mirror on the bed and turning to face his friend.

“No problem, you look better with it short. Maybe now you can fucking remember to comb it out every now and again, yeah?”

“I never combed it before.”

“That's the problem.”

“Still nicer looking than your hair, yours is bloody terrible.”

“Oh fuck off, don't make me regret bringing your ass back home.” Murdoc shot back glaring at him.

“You mean leave me at the pub?”

“Could have, Satan knows you never would have found your way back home. Takes nothing for you to get lost.”

“No way, you like me too much to just up and leave me somewhere like that.” The singer said smiling exposing his lack of his top two front teeth.

“And who says that?”

“You all telling me in the shower you love me, holding me and all that mess.” 

2D wrapped his arms loosely around the shorter man's neck, fingers brushing against the back of his neck.

“Don't make me regret saying that.”

“Not my fault you're in love with me.”

“No I believe it's partially your fault, I'd be perfectly fine off somewhere else if you hadn't been standing in front of my car.”

“I was working. In a shop. That you crashed into with your car and besides you'd be bloody miserable without knowing me. You were fucking miserable while I wasn't here, that's why you brought me back, right?”

“Yeah...Yeah that's right, come here luv” 

Murdoc leaned back against the wall, 2D settled down on his lap, head resting against his shoulder. The bassist wrapped an arm around his friend holding him against him. There was nostalgic contentment in the moment. He closed his eyes humming to himself the song his second mom used to sing to him as a boy when she would cradle him after his father would hurt him. Murdoc kissed the top of 2D's head, the other man sighed happily.

“When are we going to get Russ and Noodle back?”

“Another day or two....Still want you all to myself for now, catch up...”

“It's a bit like old times isn't it, back when we first met....Well met after I came out of my coma.” 2D corrected.

“Something like that”

Murdoc smiled thinking about that day. The rain falling from the forever cloudy sky, people freaking out when they saw the blue haired boy fly through the windscreen. That moment of “oh shit” Murdoc had had when he thought he was going to prison for sure this time, but then 2D had moved. He had brought himself stumbling to his feet, shards of glass falling from his clothes and hair and onto the concrete. He'd turned around to look at where he'd been thrown from and in that moment Murdoc had felt his heart skip a beat. He never knew for what reason, but there was something so pure and fucking magical about those endless black eyes and that cut bloody skin. He knew they'd know each other forever after that moment.

Now they were here and he was struggling to be sure of how long forever would be now.


End file.
